


Trapped No Longer

by sumnawaz



Category: Blood and Ash Series - Jennifer L. Armentrout
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:55:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27533356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sumnawaz/pseuds/sumnawaz
Summary: Sometimes Casteel fears if he's still imprisoned when he sleeps, and when he wakes, he fears what he has will be taken from him. His wife is a comforting voice that soothes him easily.
Relationships: Penellaphe Balfour/Casteel Da'Neer, Penellaphe Da'Neer/Casteel Da'Neer, Poppy Balfour/Casteel Da'Neer, Poppy Da'Neer/Casteel Da'Neer
Comments: 2
Kudos: 80





	Trapped No Longer

**Author's Note:**

> I've written Poppy being comforted by Casteel after having a nightmare, so I figured I'd write something the other way around. all characters belong to Jennifer L. Armentrout.

He often wondered if he was dreaming.

Dreams his mind would conjure up to appease the notion of a slow death, dreams he’d get lost in to ignore the reality of not having enough blood, of killing those who were thrown into his cage, of doing heinous things just to survive a little bit longer. But survive for what? What was there, outside of the dank cage that smelt of stale blood and damp bricks, for him to survive for?

Poppy.

Her name would ring through his head, her familiar scent wrapping around him like a comfort he’d never found anywhere else, and Casteel would pray to any of the gods listening that this wasn’t a dream. He would pray that he had, in fact, made it out of Carsadonia, and the woman he’d fall asleep next to and wake up wrapped around wasn’t just a figment of his imagination. Casteel would see Poppy’s smile, and it would erase the image of the dead bodies piled in the corner of his cage. He’d hear her laugh, and it would deafen the pained shrieks and moans of those he’d ripped apart to feed on because he couldn’t control himself. He’d feel her touch, and it would wipe away the burning sting of being branded and the slicing of his skin so his blood could be taken from him.

And Casteel would hope, with everything in him, that this was a life he’d found for himself and not the makings of a man still locked up, dreaming of something he couldn’t have.

Poppy often teased him, when she’d wake up to catch him watching her. She’d poke and laugh at him for being creepy, though she was always joking, but he couldn’t help himself. Casteel wouldn’t be able to tear his gaze from her if he tried, always afraid that she’d disappear right in front of him, vanish into the figment of his imagination a dark part of him afraid she was. He never told her that was the reason why he stared—to remind himself that she was real, that _they_ were real. That she loved him and she was his wife and nothing about them suggested to being an image Casteel’s blood deprived subsoncious created—whether to torture him or save him, he wasn’t sure. 

Either way, Casteel ended up prisoner to his head, because the nightmares still plagued him. If it wasn’t one of him locked in the cage, waiting for the Ascended to have his way with him the way they always did, it would be that damned nightmare that paralyzed him in the Skotos Mountains, a fear that had been preyed upon and was suddenly being given life to by his traitorous mind.

Nightmares weren’t anything new to him—he’d suffered through them especially after fleeing from the Ascended—but these kinds were worse than any others. The kinds where his wife was taken from him and he was too useless to save her from that very cage that kept him locked in. Where she’d be bloodied and bruised and had an empty look in her green eyes that he never wanted to see on her face.

And so he would wake up and look at her sleeping next to him, a tranquil expression on her face, the steady rise and fall of her chest bringing Casteel a sense of peace that allowed him to expel a long breath. Her red hair splayed against the pillow, the comforter just at her waist as she slept. A few locks of her hair fell across her cheek, and Casteel reached forward and gently brushed them aside, the tips of his fingers grazing against her scars.

Casteel let out another shallow breath. She was alive. Not trapped. She was _fine_.

He stayed in bed for a few moments, just laying on his side as he watched her sleep. Because _that’s_ what calmed him down—it’s what brought him back from the darkness that threatened to overwhelm him. Just her—always.

When most of the tension eased from Casteel’s muscles, he found himself getting up from the bed. He couldn’t go back to sleep just yet, and he could admit to himself that it was out of fear of those nightmares returning, despite knowing Poppy was asleep right next to him. So Casteel got up and adjusted the blanket back onto Poppy, before running his fingers through his hair as he headed towards the balcony.

More than anything, Casteel wanted to stay in bed and fall asleep next to Poppy’s warm body, but he knew it wouldn’t be that easy. It never was.

So he opened one of the balcony doors and stepped out, arms folding atop the bannister as he looked out towards his kingdom. It was the middle of the night, the air just slightly cooler against the bare skin of his upper body. Lanterns were lit around the courtyard and paths below, but most of the kingdom slept under the blanket of stars glittering the sky. Casteel let out a long breath, closing his eyes as he tilted his head back, letting the night air wrap around him, a reminder he was home. He’d been away for so long, both when he was imprisoned and when he’d left for the capital of Solis to put his plan in motion. And it felt good, Casteel could admit, to be back in Atlantia. 

To be back in the place that was home, right alongside the one person who felt like such, too.

The same person who he could easily sense behind him in that moment.

“What’re you doing up?” Poppy’s gentle voice inquired, and Casteel opened his eyes and glanced over to see her approaching him. Wisps of her hair danced in the light breeze as she approached, arms wrapped around herself to keep warm from the slight chill, her flimsy nightgown not doing much to protect her.

Casteel held out his left arm and Poppy took the silent invitation to step into his side, and he felt his lips tug up when she pressed into him, her arm around his waist and head resting against chest. “I woke up and couldn’t fall back asleep,” he answered, rubbing his hand up and down her arm.

Poppy was silent for a moment, staring out at the land before them. Casteel takes in a breath, her familiar scent settling in his veins, the warmth of her body seeping into his. “Did you have a nightmare?”

He wasn’t one to lie to her. “I did,” he said quietly. 

Her other arm was around his front, a sideways hug that kept Casteel warm. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Casteel remained quiet for a couple of minutes, trying to figure out the right words, and Poppy waited silently, patiently. “Sometimes. . .” He began, taking a deep breath. “Sometimes I feel like I’m trapped. And I have to remind myself that I’m not.”

She turned then, back leaning against the bannister as she stood in front of him now, the distance between them minimal as she looked up at him. Concern was deep in her eyes, and her worry for him both tightened his chest and warmed it. “Trapped how?” Poppy asked softly.

“The dreams I have,” he sighed, hands bracing on the bannister on either side of her. His gaze remained locked with hers, but his eyebrows furrowed as he continued, “Locked in that cage.” Casteel didn’t miss the flash of heated anger that sparked in Poppy’s eyes at the mention of that. “Whether it’s me inside it or you and I can’t do anything to get you out.” Poppy’s throat worked and Casteel shook his head. “And then I wake up, and sometimes there’s this. . . This incessant voice in the back of my head telling me that all of _this_ is a dream, too. A better one, but that in any moment I could wake up and it’ll all be gone.” He took in a sharp breath. “That _you’ll_ be gone.”

“I won’t,” Poppy instantly responded, the vehemence in her voice threatening to bring forth a smile to Casteel’s lips, despite the heaviness of their conversation. It was one of his favorite things about her, her unwavering determination. She lifted her chin, green eyes remaining locked on his amber ones. Unsurprisingly, she looked stunning under the moonlight, even after rolling out of bed and being half asleep. “I know better than anyone that you can’t control what you dream about,” Poppy continued. Her right hand moved to cover his left that rested next to her, and her thumb brushed over the gold ring he wore on his finger. “But I just—I want you to remember, no matter what, _this_ will _always_ be real.”

“I know,” Casteel nodded after expelling a breath. And he _did_ know, but it still felt damn good to hear the reassurance from Poppy.

“Good,” his wife nodded, a smile tugging at her lips. She squeezed his hand. “But if you ever need a reminder, I’m right here.”

There may be times where Casteel felt utterly undeserving of Poppy, but the way she was looking at him in that moment erased any doubts he may have. Casteel may not have Poppy’s ability to sense another’s emotions, but he looked at her and could easily see just how deeply she loved him, how her words carried nothing but the truth.

“I know,” Casteel repeated, lowering his head until his forehead rested against hers. His eyes shut, nose brushing against hers as his voice dropped. “The nightmares, they’re—they’re easier to handle with you here.”

“I’m here,” she soothed, her words a warm whisper against his skin. Casteel felt her hands on his face then, her touch sparking him, thumbs rubbing along his cheekbones and Casteel moved his own arms, circling them around her waist and pulling her close. “Nothing and no one will ever get in the way of that.”

His growing smile was covered by Poppy’s lips pressing against his, and Casteel returned the kiss, slow and lazy and savoring. And whatever tension that had still been lingering in his body easily disappeared as he held his wife to him, her thin nightgown serving as no real barrier between them, but everything about her eased him. Poppy’s presence was a shield against the nightmares and worries that plagued him, a force to be reckoned with, because that’s exactly the kind of person she was: someone who, without hesitance, protected those she cared about and did so fiercely. And it was overwhelming and wonderful and so many other things Casteel could spend the rest of his life counting to have her in his life, in his corner.

Her kiss scorched him, electricity sparking in his veins as his lips moved against hers slowly, and Casteel knew if this was how he spent the rest of his life, he would never be opposed to it. “I love you,” Poppy murmured, the slight gasp in her voice eliciting a smile from Casteel, but her words tightening his grip on her. “Next time you have a nightmare, wake me. Talk to me.” Her thumb swiped along his cheekbone. “The gods know how many times I’ve woken you because of mine. You’re the one who showed me this isn’t something either of us has to go through alone. We have each other, Cas.”

There was that swooping sensation in his stomach as he heard Poppy utter that nickname, tender from her soft lips, rolling off her tongue so easily. Her words, those reassurances she uttered gently yet determinedly, tightened Casteel’s throat. And she was right, of course; no longer did she have to wake to an empty bed when she screamed her way out of a nightmare, and he no longer choked on his own breath as he crawled out of his own without anyone to turn to. 

What Poppy said. . . It was as perfect as her, and not for the first time was Casteel in utter awe of her—in awe of the fact that she was _his wife_.

“I love you,” Casteel repeated her words, his voice hoarse with emotion he hadn’t expected as he held close. “More than I can ever hope to express.”

There was a smile in Poppy’s voice as she replied, “You express it perfectly.” She squeezed his cheeks, pressing another kiss chastely to his lips. “Come on, you think you can go back to sleep?”

Casteel smiled as he pulled away, hand finding hers as he tugged her away from the railing. “Maybe,” he drawled, prompting Poppy to raise her eyebrows knowingly. He smirked then, feeling lighter than he had when he’d woken up. “If not, I think you can help with that.”

He heard Poppy laugh, the sound washing over him pleasantly as they reentered their chambers and shut the balcony door behind them. They crawled back into bed, but Casteel didn’t waste a moment in tugging Poppy towards him once he laid back down, and she didn’t protest as he pulled her enough she was practically laying on top of him: one leg between both of his, cheek resting against his pectoral and he knew she could feel the steady thump of his heart under her as his arms wrapped around her frame.

“This is more than anything I thought I’d get,” Casteel spoke, breaking the silence, gaze up at the ceiling. Poppy’s finger had been tracing patterns against his skin, halting for a second when he spoke, voice gruff. “More than what I thought I deserved.” He lowered his chin enough to brush a kiss to the crown of her head. “I am grateful, every day, to have you with me, Poppy.”

“I didn’t think I’d get any of this, either,” she returned, the quietness of her voice telling him she was thinking of those years of her life she spent veiled, sheltered, and restricted. It still angered him to think about it, to think of her as trapped as he had once been. She stopped tracing her fingers around his skin, instead sliding her hand up to cup his cheek as she lifted her head to meet his gaze. He saw the way her eyes flickered to his mouth, a soft smile curving on her own lips as she said, “I’m grateful to be here with you, too.”

A grin began lifting at Casteel’s mouth, and then Poppy’s own turned teasing to match her voice as she added at the last moment, “I would hate to see all your kidnapping efforts go to waste.”

Laughter threatening to burst out, Casteel dropped his head back onto the pillow as he swallowed the laughter and instead groaned, “Oh, for the love of the Gods—”

Poppy laughed, bright and happy and beautiful, and there was no stopping the smile to Casteel’s mouth this time as he shook his head. Poppy pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips before settling her head back to his chest and giggling gently, “Goodnight, Cas.”

He squeezed her, her body warm and familiar and _real_ and Casteel, too, was glad his efforts didn’t go to waste, even if that did sound a bit selfish. But this happiness, this love they felt for one another—they deserved this, didn’t they? After everything both of them had been through, they deserved this with one another. And Casteel. . . He wouldn’t ever be apologetic over that, over her.

So he kissed the top of her head and murmured, “Goodnight, Poppy,” and allowed himself to go to sleep. He only dreamt of her smile.


End file.
